For the look of Relax in a worsted weight yarn, take a look at Worsted Boxy.

Y’all Come Back Now, Y’Hear?

Y’all Come Back Now, Y’Hear?

Dear Ann, As I write this, I feel weak and wan, and I don’t know why. There are many possible explanations: –Cheese grits (48 hours, and still digesting)? –Pulled pork (ditto)? –Ann’s gor-may quizzene (I swear I am not the source of the rumor about that doctored-up jar of spaghetti sauce; it must be Yer Pa)? –Dishcloth cotton overdose (particularly the ‘hombre’ colorways)? –Malaria (soccer...

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Kay Leaves Nashville, Brains Totally Blown

Kay Leaves Nashville, Brains Totally Blown

Dear everybody, A quick red alert to let you know that the Greenville Advocate has written a fantastic profile of Greenville, Alabama’s fabulous quilter and patron saint of Mason-Dixon Knitting: Elmira. Here’s the article–scroll down. Thanks so much to the story’s enterprising reporter, Angie Long. Kay Gives Up Will to Live, Buys Whiffy Tablecloth, Quits Knitting Tuesday was a push-the-envelope day that included two big...

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Kay in Nashville

Kay in Nashville

Dear everybody, The scene just moments ago: Clif, five, in the back seat screaming his everloving head off, kicking his grubby little soccer cleats into the back of my seat, caterwauling about hunger and fatigue and “why are we driving into all these driveways and TURNING AROUND?” David, eight, muttering “I’m just really tired. I’m just really tired.” And beside me, right there in my own vehicle, living the...

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Memorials, Rhubarb, and Such

Memorials, Rhubarb, and Such

Dear Kay, Well, we got through the memorial service for Big Daddy on Friday. He was a grand person, and he was remembered in a wonderful way. The silver lining part of it all was the horde of grownups (I’m afraid I may someday be a grownup, if all these real grownups don’t hang around longer) along with their attendant small fry who played and fussed all weekend. I revisited that weird fantasy about starting a kibbutz somewhere, or...

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girls gone mild

dear kay lazing around with hubbo this weekend at a hotel at least four miles from home. have forgotten how to eat a meal that doesn’t include ketchup. back to uncivilization tomorrow. love, ann am heading for the burrito stand to shake it off.

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